


In Passing

by cabarets



Category: Code Blue: Doctor Heli Kinkyuu Kyuumei
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2019-12-25 07:23:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18256514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cabarets/pseuds/cabarets
Summary: “You don’t need me to tell you that it’s not your fault.” he says after a brief silence.“But —”“Megumi Shiraishi, it’s not your fault.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [choi_kimmy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/choi_kimmy/gifts), [hayairei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hayairei/gifts).



> So, hello! I made a silent pact with myself that if I reached 100 hits on 'In Reverberation', I'll publish this— which is essentially the prequel. So you don't have to read the first one to understand this. 
> 
> The story is told on Shiraishi's perspective for a change. I would say this is set around a year after Season 2, over the course of a few weeks to a month. I mean honestly, with that large of a gap — the possibilities are endless. I do not own the material of Code Blue, because if I did, they'd probably be in marital bliss by now.
> 
> Anyway, I'd like to dedicate this fic to users choi_kimmy and hayairei — because their comments invigorated the writer in me. So thanks.

“Sake!”

She shook her glass at Mary Jane, asking for a refill.

“I think you’ve had enough for today,” Mary Jane said to her, concerned.

She was throwing back drink after drink, drowning herself in her sorrows again. It was dangerous to consume so much at such a short amount of time, she knew this — but she just shut her rational, doctor-self out. She didn’t care anymore.

“Sake!” She says again, her words a little bit slurred. Mary Jane looked a little frightened as Shiraishi puts down her empty glass with hostility as to demand more. She needed more, at least until she couldn’t feel it anymore.

“Shiraishi, I think you really had enough,”

Shiraishi looks at Mary Jane at first, thinking it was her. But she was looking the other way with relief, as if someone came to her rescue. Shiraishi then looks at where she’s looking and spots Aizawa, looking quite pissed off.

“I’ll leave it to you,” Mary Jane said as she went to the back of the store. Aizawa nodded in response.

“Would you like to drink?” Shiraishi asked.

“I’d rather not.” Aizawa replied.

“Then what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to take you home.” he then grabbed her arm as he guided her off her seat.

“You don’t even know where I live,” she said, pushing him away. She felt the effects of the alcohol as she stood up from where she was, the room going in circles.

“Then tell me where to go,” he gently grabbed onto her again. Looking at her softly. Shiraishi thought his eyes were looking right through her, her body starting to feel drawn, sleepy even.

She tried to sit down, taking deep breaths. “But I don’t want to go home,” 

“Shiraishi,”

She looks up to him again, “I don’t feel so good,” shutting her eyes for a second.

“Shiraishi, don’t play with me.” he says with such urgency.

 

* * *

_“Shiraishi-sensei, you missed a phone call from your mother just now, she said it was important that you got back to her.” a nurse calls out to her._

_“Noted,” Shiraishi responds. She was double-checked her patient’s condition in the HCU before leaving to call her mother._

_Once she was alone at the office, she dialled the phone number and waited patiently — pressing her ear unto the receiver. As soon as she heard the sound of her mother’s voice, her face slowly lost its colour._

_“Mom,” her eyes wide and glass-like— clearly holding back her tears. “I understand,” was all she could say and waited a moment before she could put down the phone._

_All at once, the emotions were building up inside of her, she felt like she couldn’t breathe. But she was a doctor — they needed a doctor here. Like nothing has changed, Shiraishi finished her shift that night and went on the first train to Aomori the next day — only informing Tadokoro-sensei of the incident._

 

* * *

_She looked into her father’s eyes with fear, hesitation and love. She knew that this would happen eventually, even prepared for it. But nothing really prepares you, especially when it’s right in front of your very eyes._

_Then her father dies, surrounded by his family — as he wanted it to be. On the inside, Shiraishi felt overwhelmed — completely overwhelmed. She was speechless, confused, a little bit frustrated even — she was a doctor who couldn’t save her own father. It didn’t fully occur to her yet that her father had died._

_“I will handle everything, don’t worry.” she said as she rubbed her mother’s back in comfort._

_She needed to step up and be strong —to handle everything on her own. The funeral arrangements, her father’s estate, what happens after, she had it all planned out in her head. There really was no time to feel. If she was being honest with herself, all she wanted was for someone to come and help her — for somebody to hold her._

_As soon as her mother calmed herself to sleep, Shiraishi went on outside to walk. There was no destination —just letting her feet take her away. Anywhere but there. She just ended up at a nearby park, which made her laugh a little bit. She used to go here when she was quite young and had a lot going on. Accustomed, perhaps. She sat down on a swing set, slightly moving it back and forth._

_Shiraishi did not know what prompted her to reach for her phone— or the fact that she started to call. All she knew is that she needed to hear someone’s voice. Someone familiar, someone who she could listen, someone who she felt could understand her._

_“Hello,” a voice echos from her receiver._

_She’s been staring at the distance for awhile now, she wasn’t fully aware that the call went through. Her eyes wide and glass-like, she’s clearly holding back her tears._

_“Shiraishi, what’s wrong?” he sounded concerned, gentle even._

_“My Father,” was all she could say. But something in their silence told her that she didn’t need to say anything else, that he understood what she wanted to say._

_“Shiraishi,”_

_She tried to hold it in, but the moment she heard his voice, she let her tears run through. He wasn’t anywhere near Aomori, but she felt him beside her. No words were further exchanged— only the sound of her grief echoed. She cried and cried until her eyes couldn’t anymore. Those sobs turned to soft muffles and all the while her ears still glued to the receiver._

_“Aizawa,” In her thoughts she thought he’d just forgotten to hang up, which was fine. No one wants to listen to someone’s cries. But she wanted to believe otherwise._

_“I’m here.” he responds almost immediately._


	2. Chapter 2

Shiraishi woke up with a throbbing pain on her forehead but it didn’t matter to her as she soon realised that she didn’t recognise her surroundings. She looked at her body to see if she’d finally done something she’d regret — she’s still wearing her clothes from yesterday, so she’s safe on that area. So where was she? She then looked around the room, which was quite small, it seemed like it wasn’t a love hotel or anything but she was in someone’s apartment, but who’s?

As she walks around the tiny apartment, she notices that it was clean and organised —there wasn’t much decor nor any personalisation to the place apart from a bookcase filled to the brim, which caught her eye. She then spots a neatly made sandwich on top of the dining table alongside an array of items— a glass of water, a blister pack of ibuprofen, a key, and a note saying the following.

> _Shiraishi,_
> 
> _I made you something to eat in case, I left you some ibuprofen as well if you felt like taking some. If you felt like freshening up, I left out a toothbrush, towel, and a sweatshirt for you by the bathroom sink. Don’t worry about it, they’re unused. But feel free to help yourself to anything, it’s perfectly alright. Please lock the apartment when you leave, just give me the key when you get to the hospital._
> 
> _Aizawa_

“Aizawa,” for a moment, a smile escapes her lips at the sight.

“Aizawa?” she reread the note over and over again, trying to register the information contained in it. When it did, she audibly gasped in shock. She was suddenly aware of what had happened to her last night and her eyes widen at the realisation.

Aizawa’s apartment.This is Aizawa’s apartment. She looked around again, thinking that it seems to fit him. It seemed like him. She knew that her drinking was going to bring her to different places, but she never expected it to be Aizawa’s apartment. She was in Aizawa’s apartment- God, She was in Aizawa’s apartment.

A million questions were raising in Shiraishi’s head but the one she was concerned about was how was she going to face him later.

“You idiot,” Shiraishi says to herself.

 

* * *

“Good morning,” Shiraishi greets Hiyama as she runs into her as she enters the lockers.

“Good morn-” Hiyama stops herself halfway, seeming to go back into the room.

Shiraishi notices Hiyama staring at her but she pays it no mind, she has other things worse to deal with, like how she’s running a bit later than usual. She internally thanks Aizawa for living so near the hospital.

“Weren’t you wearing those yesterday?” Hiyama asked.

Shiraishi simply ignores her, changing into her scrubs. Rushing, she tossed the sweatshirt at the bench next to her which then Hiyama starts examining the garment.

“Wait a minute,” she says holding the garment, “Shiraishi, this is a man’s sweatshirt.”

Shiraishi’s attention finally focuses on Hiyama, showing her the garment. She’s about to have an interesting conversation, she thought. She contemplated on not wearing it. However, the top she wore reeked of alcohol — which she felt was a bit too unprofessional at her part. She may feel like crap, but she believed that she shouldn’t look or smell like one. 

That sweatshirt, a nice white one, which felt very comfortable to wear. Quite stylish even. Who knew Aizawa had style? That’s right, it was Aizawa’s sweatshirt. A sweatshirt he kindly lent to her because she passed out on him and he had no choice but to bring her to his home — even prepared her breakfast and other things. But Hiyama didn’t need to know that. No one needed to know that.

“Yes,” Shiraishi said cooly.

“Yesterday’s clothes. Man’s sweatshirt. You spent the night with a man.” Hiyama cheekily remarked.

Shiraishi’s face remained stoic, but her ears gave her away — blood rushing into them. If Hiyama knew what Aizawa did for her, they wouldn’t hear the end of it. Aizawa wouldn’t hear the end of it, and she didn’t want that. She simply grabbed the sweatshirt back and placed it inside her locker, grabbed her stethoscope and darted to the exit.

“I can’t believe it!” Hiyama remarked, she was trying to catch Shiraishi’s pace, “I can’t believe you spent the night with someone!”

“So who’s the lucky guy?” Fujikawa responds as he approaches them, Aizawa in tow.

If it couldn’t get any worse.

“Yeah, Shiraishi, who is it?” Hiyama pressing on, she seems to be enjoying this more than she should.

Little did they know that the person in question is right there, except he didn’t sleep with her. She slept in _his_ home but woke up with all her clothes in tact, tucked in comfortably in his bed. Though seeing her like _that_ , he still trusted her well enough to leave her alone in his apartment. He even made her a nice sandwich and left her things to freshen up with — and left her a note, which was sweet. Aizawa was _sweet_. Just like that, the self-loathing and embarrassment Shiraishi felt went away at these thoughts. She never really thought of that until now.

“You seemed to have a great time,” Fujikawa remarked.

“Huh?”

“You just smiled by yourself,” he teased.

With his remark, Shiraishi began to feel overly conscious of her own face. Fujikawa was right, she _was_ smiling, not the forceful kind, but a rather genuine one. Why? She asked herself. She then realised that Aizawa was there too, her entire face turning a bright pink.

Before they could tease her more, the doors to the elevator have opened up. Hiyama and Fujikawa enter first, bickering about their own love lives. Too conscious of her face instead of where she was walking, she bumps into Aizawa as they entered the elevator.

Aizawa balanced Shiraishi back into her toes. As she was about to say thanks, he discreetly gives a slight squeeze to her shoulder and gestures her to go in before he did. Then their eyes met for the first time today— It only lasted for a few seconds, but it brought a wave of calm into her almost instantly.

“Eh?” she asked herself.

For someone who could easily answer any question laid out, she felt stuck — and she didn’t like that one bit.

 

* * *

She leaned her head on the elevator walls as soon as she entered it. It probably wasn’t sanitary, she knew this, but she was so exhausted from her interactions from her colleagues. This was the only time she felt like she could breathe again.

She guessed right when they wouldn’t let her hear the end of it. What more if she had actually had a real boyfriend she spent the night with? What more if they found out that she was just drinking her emotions away and Aizawa just took her home — that sounded wrong — Aizawa came round and took care of her — still wrong. _Aizawa—_ What was it with Aizawa?

What actually happened last night? All she could remember was she was looking directly into his eyes at the bar and then the next thing she remembered was waking up in his bed. She assumed she passed out on him and nothing more. But what if she blacked out instead? Doing things that she shouldn’t be doing? What did she subject Aizawa to? Her head ached even more and she knows it wasn’t from the alcohol. She should really ask Mary Jane or Aizawa about it. She drops her head into her hands and swears to herself that she wouldn’t drink that much again.

The elevator opens to a floor that isn’t hers and someone enters. She hears someone give a greeting, as if they knew each other. When she looks up and her gaze completely absorbs who it was, she gave an audible gasp which startled them both.

“G—good work today,” Shiraishi says.

“Are you alright?” he asked her.

“Fine,” her hands on her heart, she never thought it was possible to give yourself a fright.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” he brings up.

“No, I’m sorry.” she said, shameful of her actions.

“Oh,”

Her head ached, tension ran through her body— it’s been aching for a few days now. It bothers her, but it didn’t matter. There are more important things to deal with.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” she said to him, he shook his head in reply. Though she didn’t look directly at him, she felt his gaze.

She continued on, “You also for made sure I was sorted in the morning. It’s embarrassing, you know? You didn’t have to do all of _that_ , but I’m glad you did.”

The elevator door opened and Aizawa stepped out, “I wanted to, if it matters.” he replies to her as the door closes on them.

She shook her head as what he just said registered in to her brain. In the confined space of the elevator, for some reason, Shiraishi started feeling like she needed some air again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm gonna admit this is a bit rushed. For I don't know if I'll be able to update this as soon as I thought I would. I'm gonna be quite busy for awhile, but I'll try to keep writing this on my free time. Thanks for taking the time to read this!
> 
> Edit: I divided this Chapter into 2 because I now believe it's really too long comparing it to the first chapter - the flow doesn't feel right anymore. Yeah I'm sorry I really didn't think it through!!! I'll do better I promise!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay if you read this early on, then you should know this was part of the second chapter. The flow just didn't feel right to me so I divided it. I should have reread another it before I decided on posting it. So my apologies, I'll do better.  
> I intended for it to be done by this week since this technically is just merely for publishing. (i.e. This was the first fic before 'In Reverberation', so this was technically first to be done.) But life just happens. I'm gonna be busy for a couple of days and I'm not so sure if I can update this as I like. But I'll try my best to deliver it well and since I made this for people, I really want to do a good job.
> 
> Please don't hesitate to give me comments or suggestions, maybe if you'd like to take a guess as to where the fic is going— that's fine too. Happy reading!

_The news of her father’s passing got around quickly in the Medical field. I guess it’s one of the few things that come with being a famous Professor._

_Shiraishi struggled to place herself in his funeral. It felt so unpleasant to her to be there, all eyes were on her — watching how was she reacting, coping. At the same time she felt like she was invisible, like no one was really looking. Suddenly, the wind felt much cooler now._

_A gust of wind draws her attention to look at a specific direction —finding herself seeing a familiar face among the crowd. He’s here. She blinked once on her disbelief, like her mind was just messing with her — He’s actually here. Not knowing if it will ever reach him, she exhibited a soft smile at his direction sending only gratitude and warmth in his confidence._

_Their eyes finally met, inviting each other to approach. It felt like a meeting in secret to commit something unfathomable. An exchange incapable of being fully understood. So they just stood where they were, aware of their own steady regard — between them an exchange that could only be described as cozy, a cozy warmth._

Warmth. A feeling of warmth severed her thoughts, making her realise that Aizawa was standing next to her station, putting down a cup of warm coffee beside her. She held the cup and nodded in gratitude.

“Good work today,” he leaned on her desk, balancing.

“It’s late,” she said to him, she takes a sip and carries on with what she’s supposed to be doing.

“Yes I know,”

“Shouldn’t you be going home?” she said as she just noticed he wasn’t wearing his scrubs.

“I should say the same to you,” he raises his eyebrow at her.

“I’m not yet done with paperwork,” she points out the multiple files laid out around her.

“Are these even yours?” he asks.

She didn’t want to answer that, because they weren’t. She volunteered to do them because she was out of town for awhile. She insisted despite the refusal of her colleagues. Nothing gets past him. Aizawa sighs at her. 

“I’ll go as soon I finish.” she smiles at him and opens one of the files and starts writing.

Aizawa clicked his tongue and sits in front of her, “Tell me what to do,” he says as he grabs on to a file next to her.

“I will handle everything, don’t worry. You can go.” she says, grabbing the file back from his hands — but he wasn’t letting go.

“You should stop that,” Aizawa aired in frustration, “Don’t do someone else’s work. It takes you away from your own work. It makes you less efficient.”

Shiraishi lifted her head and gazed at him. She was getting a bit annoyed at him at this point. She had a rough day, a hangover to top it all off. She didn’t need a lecture, he isn’t even from this department anymore — _Why is he even here?_

Aizawa’s eyebrows shot up at her again, “It’s more efficient if _two_ people work on these papers. Now Shiraishi, tell me what to do.”

She didn’t want to back down, her grip on the file still tight. Now he wants to help her? He seems complicated — erratic even.

“Let me help you,” Aizawa said quietly, “I want to.”

But when she looked into his eyes, there was something about his eyes that Shiraishi could not understand, but could understand completely.

“Okay.” she concedes, proceeding to guide him through.

 

* * *

Shiraishi changed out of her scrubs and got back into her outside clothes. She looked at the borrowed sweatshirt again — technically it wasn’t all hers. She sighs at the thought and continues on. On her way out of the locker room, she spots Aizawa, who seems to be sitting down at the nearby benches. Why was he still here?

Their eyes meet. It was at this moment that Shiraishi realised he was waiting for her. Why? But she realised soon enough that that was today — last night. She walked towards him and Aizawa meets her halfway.

“I’m sorry I kept you,” she says as she fishes out for the spare key to his apartment, “and thank you. Just thank you.”

He just shakes his head in response as he places the keys into his bag. Shiraishi can feel her blood rushing to her ears.

“So I’ll see you,” she says as she walks away.

“Wait,” Aizawa calls out to her.

Shiraishi turns back to him. There is something in his eyes, concern looming over them.

“Let me take you home. It’s late.”

 

* * *

It was the middle of the night and all public transports seemed to have closed long before they’ve finished. So they decided to just walk for awhile until they could find a taxi cab. Shiraishi was paying no mind to her surroundings. She felt like the world was foggy, and that her actions throughout have been stuck on autopilot for the most part — robotic. But her mind briefly goes back to last night. How could she not remember anything? Her brow furrows at the thought.

“Are you alright?” He asks.

“Yes, fine.” she says, her jaw clenches.

“Do you remember anything from last night?”

He asked this question earlier, as Shiraishi recalled. She thought of it in passing during the day, but she just couldn’t remember — and that frustrated her so much. She quickens up the pace of her walking, moving ahead of Aizawa. Her thoughts foggy. She wasn’t in the mood — exhausted. A feeling of irritation ran through her, overtaking all logic. 

“Oy,” Aizawa notices her change of pace and catches up to her, matching it. Her jaw clenches tighter, her cheery, polite demeanour vanishes in a blink of an eye. She stops walking.

What was it with Aizawa? 

“What do you want from me?” she said, which she didn’t realise she actually said it out loud.

He stopped in his stride, clicking his tongue in the process. Shiraishi notices him fiddling around with his fingers, like he always would. Did she hurt him? She tenses up at the sight.

“I don’t know,” he doesn’t look at her, “When you see someone hurting, you can’t look away, right?” 

She didn’t mean to lash out at him. He just happened to be there. Of all the people who should be mad — it’s him. All he ever was today was caring. She inconvenienced him and all he got was a lashing out. He didn’t even fight back, he just took it in. Why is she like this? He didn’t deserve that. Aizawa did not deserve that.

Aizawa finally hailed a taxi in the somewhat empty road. He opened the door for her and he sat next to her, a few inches apart. They rode on the way back home in silence— shoulders slightly touching. The air around them felt tense. She did not know why but she had every urge to hold his hand, which Shiraishi would casually brush her hand to his, a compromise she said to herself. She would not let himself hold her hand, it’s not something they should be doing. At least after what transpired. 

She then grabs her phone to distract her from their terribly awkward situation, to her surprise, there is a message from Mary Jane. She then remembers that she did send them a text telling them that she was alright, that she was safe. She really isn’t thinking clearly today.

> _Ugly, Thank god you’re alright. But I already knew that, Aizawa-kun kept me updated. If you don’t want him, I’ll gladly take him. You don’t get a man like that every era._

What is that supposed to mean? What the hell happened last night? It didn’t answer any of her questions and left her even more confused than before. She ran late at the hospital because she didn’t sleep at her own house. Followed by a whole day of interrogations from Fujikawa and Hiyama on who did she spend the night with, which didn’t stop. Paperworks that ran for miles, ensuring overtime. Lashing out at Aizawa when all he did was be nice to her today. On top of that all, she was trying to figure out for the life of her what happened to her last night as well as fighting a massive hangover. God, today was just not her day at all.

He gets out of the taxi cab with her when they arrived at her apartment complex. When Shiraishi was about to grab her wallet, he lifts his hand up to her and directly pays the driver. He does not say a word but simply follows her.

“Well this is me,” she says as soon as she arrives on her doorstep, “thanks for bringing me home.”

“Ah,”

“I’m sorry, I—” she tried to verbalise an apology to him. 

He just shakes his head and puts his hand up to say goodbye. Leaving her by her door, not even looking back once.

She opened her door with fumbling fingers. Opening doors shouldn’t be this hard. The moment the door opened, she felt the need to run straight to her balcony window, opening it — looking for him. He’s still there, walking his way to the main road. She tries to call out to him, but the words don’t come out, she couldn’t speak. Sitting down on to the floor in frustration, she drops her head into her hands.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I don't even know what to tell you. But here it is.

_“What am I going to do with you?” he sighs at her._

_Shiriashi felt like she was lying down on a soft surface— a bed maybe? It was so comfortable. She felt snugged under the covers, tucked in. She then feels a coolness around her face, passing soft strokes around._

_“That feels nice,” she murmured— you can tell her words are a bit slurred._

_“Shiriashi, can you hear me?” She then opens her eyes a bit — a distant humming filled her ears. Her eyes roamed to a pair of lips and practically stared at them._

_“Shiraishi,”_

_It was clumsily done, her lips awkwardly colliding with his for a moment. She kissed him._

_But he pulls back almost immediately, “Shiraishi, you’re drunk. I can’t do this.”_

_Then she glanced at the lips once more, but now they were no longer just a pair of lips — they were Aizawa’s lips._

She shot up out of her bed covered in her own sweat. She then fiddled with her bedsheets absentmindedly as she tried to trace back what had just happened. Was it just a dream? But it was too vivid for it to be a dream. Did she really kiss Aizawa? This was bad.

“Oh my God,” she slaps her forehead in annoyance.

 

* * *

“Aizawa,” Tachibana-sensei says, “it’s been a long time.”

Aizawa came in today at the Emergency Room for a consultation for the first time. As soon as Shiraishi saw his face, she stumbled on nothing — like her legs suddenly gave out. It wasn’t enough that they haven’t really resolved their row from a few days ago — now, she vividly remembers that she had drunkenly kissed him. How the hell can she face him now? God, she was a damn idiot.

She grabbed on to somebody’s hands as she recovers from the stumble. As she stood up and was about to give her thanks to whoever helped her up, a jolt was felt around her body when she realised it was Aizawa helping her up. He merely nods at her and then goes unto do what he’s supposed to.

“I’m coming in.” Aizawa says as he starts to examine a patient with head trauma.

Shiraishi couldn’t help but stare at him for a moment. His whole demeanour changes whenever he’s working on a patient. It really was something else — a different kind of cool.

“Shiraishi,” Tachibana-sensei calls out, “I need your assistance here. Aizawa can handle that.”

“Coming,” she merely nods her head to Aizawa as she goes to assist Tachibana-sensei, which for her felt like the Gods weren’t _that_ against her. 

 

* * *

She found herself at the passageway of the helipad by the end of the day, it became a sort of solace for her. A place to think, to just merely exist amidst the chaos that her job entailed. She closed her eyes for a moment, listening to the sounds of the wind.

She heard the hospital doors open and as she looked at its direction, she saw a figure stepping out of the hospital coming closer to where she was. The sun was setting so the heli operations were over for the day — so who could it be? She only realised who it was when she noticed his scrubs weren’t exactly the right colour.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I have a view of the helipad at the Neurosurgery office and I thought it’d be you,” he places a jacket around her shoulders, “Aren’t you cold?”

Until the warmth of his recently worn jacket touched her skin, she forgot how cold it actually was outside.

“About a few days ago,” Shiraishi brings it up.

“That’s still bothering you, huh?” he asks, “Don’t worry, Shiraishi, I’m not mad — I promise.”

“I remember,” she closes her eyes as she replays it over and over, “I remember _everything_.”

“Oh,” finally realising what she actually meant.

“Aizawa, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s alright.” he says sympathetically.

“No, it’s not,” Shiraishi flinched.

She didn’t know why she’d done that — why she kissed him. Now that she’s thinking about it, was she even interested in Aizawa? She has to admit to herself that he was smart, talented, with a little bit of a sharp tongue — handsome even. Apart from that, he was sweet and cared a lot for things that mattered. It was an interesting mix — Aizawa was interesting. But she didn’t know if he was interesting in _that way._

But it wasn’t the time to think of that. She clearly needed to make amends. She put him through a lot of things — things he clearly didn’t ask for.

“I’ll do anything you ask,”

“Shiraishi, you don’t ha—”

“Aizawa, let me do something for you. Please. I won’t forgive myself if you don’t.”

He thinks for awhile, then replies, “Are you free this weekend?”

 

* * *

She didn’t know why she dressed so nicely today.

All Aizawa mentioned to her is to meet up at a train station nearby and nothing else. Is this what she thinks it is? No, No. That’s impossible. Absolutely impossible. She was fairly certain that that wasn’t the case. But she didn’t know why she took the time to look the way she did now. It was only a little bit of perfume and a dash of lipstick, right?

She sees Aizawa waiting by the entrance. He looks nice — he cleans up well, she thought. No, no. She immediately shakes off the thought. Aizawa immediately notices her from afar and moves into her direction.

“Thanks for coming with me,”

“That’s fine, it’s my day off anyway,”

She’s still curious as to why Aizawa invited her over — but she didn’t ask him. She should really stop being an idiot and quit embarrassing herself.

“We just need to pick up something, then we’ll go.”

She nods her head in reply and they continue walking. To pick something up? Where exactly are they going? As they reach the corner of the street, They stop by at this tiny boutique, which Aizawa looks at the place as if this was actually the place to be. Why were they here? He notices Shiraishi stare at him in confusion and opens the door for her, gesturing her to enter. Which in turn makes her blush in embarrassment.

“Welcome!” a saleslady says in salutations, “you’re here for the scarves, right? I’ll go get them.” she says as she recognises Aizawa.

“Scarves?” Shiraishi asks herself, but she didn’t realise that Aizawa heard her.

“Ah, I haven’t told you what we were doing today didn’t I?” Aizawa realises.

“No,” she shyly admits.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I couldn’t really think of anything but this at the time.”

Before Aizawa could divulge more about what was going to happen that day, the saleslady arrives and puts forth two scarves in front of them, which Shiraishi thought were very beautiful.

“Will you choose one for me? I found it hard to choose between the two when I first got here,” he says to Shiraishi.

She looks at him curiously then to the scarves, which were quite different, yet both look quite complimentary to each other. Shiraishi reconfirms to herself that Aizawa does have a good sense of style. But who was it for?

“Is it for her?” the saleslady asks as if she read Shiraishi’s mind.

Was she really that transparent?

“No,” He looks to Shiraishi and gives a slight grin, “it’s for my grandmother. It’s her birthday today.”

“I see,” the saleslady replies to him, “I’ll be right back with you,” she says as she spots another customer roaming around the store unattended.

“She would always tell me how it was getting colder outside when she went out on her morning walks,” he tells Shiraishi, as if knowing that she’s still trying to digest the information given to her.

So this is what it was? For Kinue-san. He’s asking for her help because he couldn’t choose the right one for his grandma’s birthday present? That’s actually very touching. She could see how Kinue-san meant to Aizawa, and the fact that he really thinks about these things made Shiraishifeel a little more different about him. With that, she severs all inappropriate thoughts and focuses on choosing the right one for Aizawa. It was the least she could do.

“I think this would suit her best,” she lays hold of a blanket scarf, which was not one of the two choices given to her — but she hands it to him anyway. “It’s warm, soft to the touch, and quite lightweight. It’s also a little bigger than the one you chose, but she could use it when she travels or when she’d take her walks. I would think of these things too, you know?”

Aizawa merely nods his head in reply, grasping the feel of the fabric against his fingers.

“Have you chosen?” The saleslady asks as she comes back to them.

“We’ll take this one.” he says as he hands the scarf to her.

“Oh,” The saleslady looks in bewilderment for a moment but then looks at Shiraishi and smiles at her.

“ _Oh_ , I see.” she says to Aizawa, “I’ll have this wrapped for you, so if you’d be so kind to come with me to the register.”

 

* * *

As they exited the boutique, Aizawa looked at the gift bag, as if contented. So this is what Aizawa is like to someone who means a lot to him. It’s very endearing — cute even. She felt like she did well today, despite the rough start and her obvious blunder. As they reach the station where they had met earlier, Shiraishi felt that she could finally breathe again. That wasn’t that hard, was it?

“So I’ll see you,” Shiraishi says as she was about to enter the station.

“Shiraishi,” Aizawa says, “the buses are this way.”

“Huh?”

“Come with me.”

“No, I can’t,” she says in bewilderment, “absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“I-I don’t want to intrude,” she stammers.

“You’re not,” he sighs, “I told her about bringing you around.”

“You what?”

“So let’s go?”

She hesitates for awhile, looking at him, trying to take in everything.

“If you’re going to celebrate a birthday, why don’t you have cake?” she sighs, conceding.

She did not know why Aizawa had such a hold on her, but he did. She just wasn’t fully aware of it — even until now.

He chuckles a bit, “Grandma doesn’t like cake.”

“Impossible,”

“I’m serious, she always told me no cake.”

“Then we’ll get her something else to blow her candles with,” she grabs unto his sleeve and drags him, “I know just the place.”

 

* * *

“Kosaku!”

“Happy Birthday, grandma. I brought you—”

“A pretty girl!” she says as she sees Shiraishi by the door, shyly looking in.

“You’re the first girl he’s ever introduced to me,” Kinue-san poked fun at her grandson, who looked a bit stoic, but Shiraishi could tell that he was left a bit astonished with what she said. It’s nice to see Aizawa like this — a cool doctor, an ace, being reduced to a young boy though his grandma’s words. Aizawa still wasn’t immune to a grandma’s teasing. Then again, no one really is.

“Hello,” she says to her, but not exactly moving from where she was. She never really knew how to do these things.

“Grandma, you know Shiraishi,” he tells Kinue-san, “She took care of you when you were hospitalised awhile back.”

“Yes yes, I know,” she stands up and drags Shiraishi to a nearby seat excitedly, “Megumi-chan, how are you?”

“I’m alright Kinue-san. Oh — thank you for the flowers. Our family really appreciated them,”

“No, no, It was all Kosaku’s idea. He told me how much your father meant to you.”

Shiraishi then looked at Aizawa. Aizawa talked about her to his grandma? He mentioned that he told Kinue-san about bringing her along today but she didn’t know that they talked about her in other cases —but she was mainly thrown off guard with what Kinue-san said. He ran his fingers through his hair, yet his face did not give anything away— that didn’t matter. She felt touched.

“Kinue-san,” Shiraishi cheerfully says to her, “Aizawa brought you a present,”

“Shiraishi bought you a tart though,” he said as he brought out the fruit tart with a birthday arrangement to it, “all because I told her that you didn’t like cake.”

“But birthdays don’t feel like birthdays when you don’t have something to blow candles with.” she justifies, “this is mostly fruits, so I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“Maybe I will,” Kinue-san says to Aizawa, sitting across to where Shiraishi sat.

Aizawa sits next to her as he positions himself to let Kinue-san blow out her candles. They sing her a simple tune as she clapped along.

“Happy Birthday, Kinue-san” Shiraishi greets her.

 

* * *

“Thank you for coming with me today,” Aizawa says to her, “I’m sorry that you had to be subjected to some inappropriate questions earlier.”

She shakes her head in reply. Kinue-san did ask a lot of personal questions that she felt like she was being interviewed, questions she wouldn’t answer typically. She guesses that’s what grandmothers seem to do. It seemed like a grandma thing. She’s probably just looking out for Aizawa and the people he surrounds himself with. So she answered all of them with grace and honesty.

“I had a good time,” she says,

"I'm glad," he replies.

“I really like your grandma.”

“I can tell she likes you too.”

It started of pretty awkward but she found herself enjoying the day with him. If she was being honest, if he asked her to do this again, she’d probably say yes.

“Well, this is me. Thanks again for walking me home. You didn’t have to.”

He shook his head, “But I wanted to, Shiraishi. Have a good night now.”

“Goodnight.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Grandma called the other day,” his eyes wandering the pages of a novel, “asking about you.”

“What did you say?”

“I told her I’d have to ask,”

She smiled at him, not knowing exactly what to say, to feel — for no particular reason. But she found herself smiling anyway.

They found themselves accustomed to hanging out in their town’s library when they did have the free time to do so. They couldn’t really remember who initiated it, nor did they care — they just did. They knew they worked at a University Hospital and had much more resources to choose from, but in their minds they suggested not to tread those waters.

There was nothing wrong with what they were doing. If they weren’t reading about the latest progresses from Medical digests, they would exchange ideas on certain topics. Aizawa would usually help her discover things she didn’t find interesting. Whenever it was difficult to digest, he would be patient with her — like he always was. Sometimes they wouldn’t even talk the whole time, all they did was read and did their own thing together — comfortable in the presence of the other. It was just — easy. But if someone saw them, there would surely be discussions that they surely both want to avoid.

“Kosaku, can you please hand that book next to you over,” she says absentmindedly.

Aizawa hands it over to her compliantly, without removing his attention towards his book.

“Thank—” before she could finish her sentence — the moment the book landed into her hands — Shiraishi dived into a brief wave of panic. She just called him by his name, his _first_ name — and it didn’t feel awkward, in fact, it felt so audibly natural. Too natural. Was she being overly familiar? Was this even alright? In the moment of her inner turmoil on the use of his name, she realised the person in question was looking at her with concern.

“Are you alright?” he asks her, “you looked like you were in pain.”

“I called your name.”

“Yes, I was aware of that.”

“By your _first_ name,”

“And?”

“I don’t know,” she says shyly, and then he just looks at her like he was trying to hold in a laugh.

“You can call me whatever you’d like to call me.” he says and goes back into reading.

“Stop thinking about it already you exaggerated honours student. I said I’m alright with it.” He says to her, as if he knew that she was still thinking about it. Nothing really gets past him.

They haven’t realised that they briskly walked into an indescribable intimacy, from which will remain unspoken, but certainly unveiled.

* * *

 

For the past few days, everything seemed to be going well for Shiraishi — she was effectively performing her duties in Lifesaving, she could even say she was performing better. Importantly, she was starting to feel like herself again. Things were starting to fall back into place.

“Shiraishi-sensei, quickly!” a nurse’s voice echoes within the ICU.

But this was real life and in real life, sometimes things just go drastically southbound. While Shiraishi was doing her rounds in the ICU, Nishi-san, a patient who came in yesterday suddenly deteriorates.

“Time of death, 7:04 pm” Shiraishi declares — defeated.

The loud beeping sound of the heart monitor flatlining lingered in the ICU. She and her crew felt completely and utterly defeated. It was part of their daily lives here in the Hospital. But when Shiraishi heard the cries of a young girl calling out for her Father, it suddenly changed her.

“Papa!” a little girl, not short of 5 years of age screamed repeatedly until her lungs gave out.

As she listened to her crying, her screaming — tension ran through Shiraishi’s body. Her thoughts raced ahead to different permutations of what she must do, retraced every action she did— but nothing would bring this little girl’s father back. Then, there it was again — the grief. The sound lingered within her, cutting her through her core. Like her body just drained itself — she couldn’t move. She knows that right now she couldn’t — but no one should really bother with that.

Throughout her shift, she just did everything she could do to help — volunteered for the most obscure tasks. Even if she felt like breaking down, she did them all — looking all happy, chipper, the Shiraishi-sensei they know in the process. She let herself believe that she was still capable when she didn’t even feel like it. Deep inside, she could feel that was sinking— drowning in it.

When she got home, it still lingered— the wailing, the complete and utter devastation. Like the Gods chided her for being _too happy._ Then the tears started running, this time they were silent and unstoppable— drowning her alive. She wished she knew how to make it stop, she begged for it.— begged someone to answer her calls.

* * *

 

_You told me to call you if I needed you. I’m sorry, you’re probably on duty right now. Take care, alright? But, I just needed to get this out. I guess it’s just been hard. I had a patient come in yesterday and he expired in the ICU today. He died right next to his daughter. It’s been… rough, Aizawa. I can’t stop hearing her cries._

_Goodness, what am I doing? What a terrible message to listen to —_

She stops the voicemail and tries to call him again. All the same, he hasn’t answered yet. Thank goodness. She then thought of texting him, maybe he’d read it first before listening to it. To her, it was a plan so she did.

> _I left a voicemail on your phone, please don’t listen to it.  
>  _ _Delete it._

All Shiraishi could think about is how much she believed that she wasn’t up for this, that she wasn’t capable — she thought she was, but she’s just not. It feels like a part of her went missing. Then her doorbell starting ringing frantically. She wondered who could it be at this hour. She wanted to answer to its calls, but she couldn’t. She was scared, so scared — so undeniably filled with fear that she lost her ability to feel, to speak, to move. She couldn’t move.

But it was there on her dining table—her phone. Something in her compelled her to check on it. As she opened the screen, she realised she received multiple missed calls and messages from Aizawa. 

> _Wait, what?_
> 
> _What’s wrong?_
> 
> _Shiraishi, answer your phone._
> 
> _Where are you?_

As she finished reading the last message, another one popped up immediately. How much time has past? 

> _I’m outside your apartment._
> 
> _Let me in?_

Whether it was from reluctance or some form of surprise, Shiraishi didn’t move immediately as she would’ve liked. But as soon as she felt she could, she rushed to the door to see him there, out of breath. Before she could even say anything, Aizawa grabbed on, bringing her to an embrace.

“You idiot,” he says holding her tighter.

She doesn’t know what to do, but her hands know where to go — but she hesitates. She could feel his breath in the back of her neck, erratic, like he ran here — his heart racing. She could feel the heat rising to her face.

“I’m here.” he exhales, “You needed me, so I’m here.”

His arms felt so warm — felt so sure. Shiraishi slowly closed her eyes and let herself place her arms around him.

“If I’m being honest, I might not be very helpful when it comes to advice. But I’m willing to listen to you,” Aizawa says as he slowly strokes her hair, “You can leave anything out that you don’t want to share.”

“Would you like to come in?” Shiraishi murmured into his ear.

* * *

 

So they were lying on her couch, her head on his shoulder — not exactly knowing how much time had past. The only thing you could hear was noises from outside, but either from that — silence. Their breathing merely indicating that they’re in fact there together — alive. It didn’t matter at the moment. It didn’t matter. They merely coexisted in the same space, undisturbed.

Shiraishi for awhile, for this moment, slowly forgot the thoughts looming over her. The mere fact that Aizawa laid there next to her voluntarily, waiting patiently, made her feel calm and relaxed — stroking her hair every now and again. Would it make a difference if it was any other person? Probably. But right now, all that she knew is that his presence was enough — that it was exactly what she needed.

“Shiraishi?” Aizawa gently shakes her to wake up, his voice still groggy.

She was half-awake, but she refused to wake up — unknowingly pressing herself closer to him.

“It’s really late,” he whispers into her ear, “I have an early morning shift,”

“Hmm,” her eyes fluttered open, but she didn’t move for awhile, trying to take in her surroundings — yawning herself awake.

“I’m just,” she says softly as she sits up, “wondering if I’m ready for it.”

“I see,” he says, sending subtle pats to her knee, “so what do you want to do then?”

“Right now?” she asks him,“I just really want to go to sleep,” he then nods in reply.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” he stands up from where he was sitting, but lets himself linger for a little bit longer before facing her.

She then follows him up to the door. In every step, in every swing of his arms, she tries to grasp unto them. If only she’d reach out and take it.

“Goodnight, Shiraishi.” he says as he reaches the door.

He looks back at her before he steps outside and their eyes met — and they just stayed there for awhile. Not knowing whether or not to get lost in them. He blinks and goes.

“Goodnight,”

Laying in her bed, ready to fall asleep, she drowsily stared at the ceiling with a sense of curiosity — asking herself about Aizawa. _Really_ asking this time. What was it with Kosaku Aizawa? He didn’t seem approachable — once you got to know him, even less. But if she really thought about it, Aizawa _felt_ approachable — once she got to know him, even more. She was looking for a word: like, maybe? Sure she liked him, but that wasn’t it. Drawn? Maybe. There was something about him that she felt like she could just trust him to understand her. Trust. That’s it.

She _trusted_ Aizawa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "But if someone saw them, there would surely be discussions that they surely both want to avoid."
> 
> In case you were thinking it, yes, this sentence is about Fujikawa. They love him, but you know how he is. HAHAHAAHA ok cool bye i hope you had a good day


	6. Chapter 6

> _Shiraishi,_
> 
> _I checked on Shiro Nishi-san, the patient you mentioned to me. He was brought by ambulance to Shohoku around 12 noon, to a head injury from his construction work. Which he was then entrusted to your care once Lifesaving has stabilised him._
> 
> _According to his CT scans, he had a blunt force trauma to his head caused by debris that fell from a crane. From a neurological perspective, he was lucky to have survived a day as it was reported that his colleagues moved him around before medical treatment arrived for him — which is probably the cause of internal bleeding to worsen. I’ve attached my notes in case you’d like to see them._
> 
> _I know you know all of these already. I know you most likely re-examined every scan, every report to see what you did wrong. You did nothing wrong. It was just an unfortunate circumstance and out of your control. Don’t blame yourself, we are not Gods._
> 
> _Aizawa_

She stared at the letter for awhile, trying to let everything sink in. Then, she opened the file that came along with the e-mail, which was a detailed account, the type that you could surely tell wasn’t done in haste. Didn’t she just mention this yesterday? When did he have the time to do this?

Her mind then went back to around a year ago — it felt so much longer, like they were so much younger. Aizawa knew about her struggle when it came to her father. Though it was caused by a few glasses of Sake at first, they confided in each other. Aizawa did something similar afterwards as well.

A barrel of emotions tumbled through Shiraishi: sadness, joy, relief. Why would Aizawa do this? He has done something like this before, but still. She couldn’t believe that Aizawa would take the time to do all of these just so she could feel at ease.

She didn’t know what to do with this information. Nonetheless, Shiraishi then felt a great wave of fondness for Aizawa. In the past few weeks, there hasn’t been a day that went by that she hadn’t thought of him — they were thoughts in passing that she hasn’t been really aware that she had been doing so. In this case, she thought of calling him up, but as soon as she was about to dial, she just couldn’t.

She then felt the need to walk, which was more doable, much more convenient. She was also rather fond of walking.

 

* * *

The door opens and she sees him, looking like he involuntarily got out of bed— running his fingers through his hair. But when he was able to take a good look at her, he instantly became alert.

 _“_ Shiraishi? What is it?” he pressingly asked. He wore a worried look in his eyes.

She looks at the sweatshirt she was wearing, which was the one he lent to her the last time she was here — fiddling with it’s fabric.

“I came to return your sweatshirt,” she tightens her grip on it.

“Alright?” He says confused, with a little more concern looming over his eyes, “I know that’s clearly not it.”

He’s right. But in her defence, she just hung it out as it came out from the dryer so she wouldn’t forget — but in her urge, she grabbed the nearest warm article of clothing she could get her hands on not knowing what it was. But he was right, that was not the reason, not the reason at all.

“I know it’s really late,” she hesitates, “But, I just started walking and somehow ended up here.”

There was still something she wanted to say. She fumbles with her words, not entirely sure how to materialise what exactly wants to say. It felt like something was stuck in her throat, making her suffocate— breathless. Most of the time, she would be in panic, as people would like her to spit it out, to come prepared with what to say, but Aizawa doesn’t, he just doesn’t. He just simply waited for her.

“I just,” she exhaled, “I just don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“You don’t have to be.” he steps aside and gestures for her to enter his apartment.

 

* * *

She sat down on his couch, “I read your e-mail,”

He made an audible reply as he started preparing to brew her a cup of tea, telling her to continue on.

“I thought we should talk about it.”

“Was there something wrong on my analysis?”

Shiraishi stays silent. Maybe he just doesn’t get what she said. Maybe he just offered out of sympathy. No, that’s not it. That’s not Aizawa. He wrote an entire medical opinion for her to read just so she could feel unworried — assured. So it wasn’t Aizawa — what was it then? At this moment, her eyes filled with confusion and uneasiness.

He stops, placing the kettle down at the counter. The sound snapping her back into reality.

“Shiraishi, are you sure?”

Then confusion leaves her — the uneasiness, shortly after. It was immediately replaced by a feeling of some sort of gravitas going right through her. She was sure.

“Can you sit down?”

Unquestionably, he enters the room and sits next to her. He leans in forward, lending his ears — making it clear that it mattered to him. Her thoughts mattered to him. Hesitantly, she grasps his hand gently — but he lets her, holding on tighter. 

Then, she lets it all go.

From her father’s death, her return to Shokoku, her drunken escapades, to the death of Nishi-san. There was no rush in the conversation, nor did she ever feel the need to do so. No detail was left out — a total surrender. She never felt so vulnerable, but it felt right, necessary — powerful. He was there, listening intently, letting his presence known once in awhile through rubbing his thumb against hers as he held her hand. There was no doubt in her mind that the things spoken between them will stay there, because she knows can trust him. Suddenly, the world felt a little less dark.

“You don’t need me to tell you that it’s not your fault.” he says after a brief silence.

“But —”

“Megumi Shiraishi, it’s not your fault.”

They said nothing more to each other after that. It felt like Aizawa wanted her to bask in the silence. As if to clear her head— to process everything. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps this was exactly what she needed. He held her hand tighter, to let her know that he was still there for her — waiting. Waiting for her to clearly understand what she’s experiencing. Sitting beside her until she decided on what she wanted to do.

It was late at night and they both know that they needed to get up really early the next day. She didn’t hesitate to stay over when Aizawa suggested so— she felt drained. He then guided her to his bedroom and offered up his bed to her.

“And where will you sleep?” she asked.

“In the couch outside, just like last time.” he tidies up the bed for her — he just got out of it after all.

She blinks her eyes anxiously. Right, the incident from a few weeks ago. How could she be so troublesome?

“Shiraishi, I already told you that it was alright,” he says as he grabs a pillow for himself, “Now go get some rest, we have work tomorrow.”

As he closes the door, she groaned in frustration from her own thoughts, which was enough for Aizawa to stop what he was doing.

“Shiraishi, it’s alright, really. I don’t mind.” His voice assuring, gentle — like he knew she was beating herself up again.

But she couldn’t move, she just couldn’t move.

“Shiraishi,”

“Will you hold me?” she says impulsively, “Not the kind filled with inappropriate intentions—Oh dear, I did _not_ just say that.”

She covers her face with her hands in embarassment, as she just realised she said her thoughts out loud — again.

He hesitates for a moment, like he was trying to absorb what she said but responds, “Of course.”

A breath of relief escapes her as he entered back into the room closing the door behind him.

He climbs on to the bed first, then gestures for her to get under the covers. They faced each other at first, not knowing exactly what to do. For a few seconds, it felt awkward, but the moment their eyes met, Shiraishi felt something— a comfortable silence.

He slowly holds her shoulder, guiding her to come closer to him. Their heads close together, foreheads grazing on each other. Glancing over, lifting her head ever so slightly so she could see his eyes, she contemplated kissing him — wondering what it would feel like.

She then realised that she wanted this. A feeling of unwavering trust and vulnerability that was never forceful— a feeling of peace. She wanted it just like this.

When their eyes locked into each other, it felt like they were spellbound, making her feel like he thought of it too. In agreement, in sync —in all cases. It felt right, whatever it was, it felt right. Their heads move closer to each other, lips slightly grazing —they could feel each others’ breath.

But they pulled apart in silence, in solitary agreement that this wasn’t the time, that it could wait. They could wait.

She found herself dipping her head down closer to his chest instead, where she listened to his breathing. He slowly intertwined his hands with hers. Absentmindedly, she just tightened her hold on it. She then felt his lips graze her forehead, which caught her off guard, but it didn’t bother her.

At this moment, Shiraishi found herself overwhelmed with drowsiness, which she thought was alright because she felt safe, comfortable in his arms.

 

* * *

_“Papa!” a little girl screams at the top of her lungs, “Papa!” tightening her grip on her father’s lifeless hands._

_Shiraishi slowly approaches the little girl, placing her hand on the small of her back trying to calm her down._

_“Shh, It’s going to be alright.” she says softly._

_The little girl doesn’t stop screaming, like she doesn’t see Shiraishi beside her. Another hand slowly place itself of top of hers, gently patting the girls back._

_“Megumi,” a much older woman says, softly sobbing._

_Megumi? The childish cries turn into a much more mature tone, a more familiar voice. Then she looks at the little girl again, but this time it wasn’t a little girl anymore._

_It was herself. Crying. Her cries louder and louder, multiplying at a fast rate. How do you even console yourself? That she didn’t know. She didn’t know how to make it stop. Her glass case of emotion shatters, letting herself go mad — running free from its cage she thought it would never escape from._

_“Shut up!” she screams, begging. Her tears wouldn’t stop._

_“Shut u—”_

Her surroundings shifted back into reality, fixating to a pair of eyes looking at her with concern. She held his face then, sharp and sculpted, his hair falling against his forehead. The face belonged to no one but Aizawa. 

“It’s alright, Megumi,” he assured her, wiping her tears away. “I’m here.” That was the first time he ever uttered her name — she never had heard his voice sound so gentle.

She clenched his shirt, pulling him closer to her, her hands trembling. She felt a sense of calm as he brought her into an embrace, cradling her.

“You’re alright,” he mumbled, “I’m here.”

The reiteration of those words sent her into a state of calm, tranquillising, her eyes growing heavy. His face was close, their noses grazing each other, their breaths slowly going in sync. It felt soothing, she thought.

“You’re so warm,” her eyes barely staying open. His hands make their way to her hair, caressing them. As she shut her eyes, her last thoughts were of his embrace, which she thought felt better than anything in the world right now.


	7. Chapter 7

_As all of the rights have ended and her father’s remains interred, she found herself at the nearby park again, like always, as soon as everyone has left— wandering off to get away from it all. But only for a moment. Only for a moment. She watched as the leaves fall into the water, then moving alongside the current._

_A hand suddenly rests on her shoulder. She turns around and smiles weakly._

_“Aizawa,” she holds the hand placed on her shoulder._

_“Your mother,” he says, it seems like he already knew what she was going to ask. “she told me you’d probably be here.”_

_“She seems to have a liking for you,” she casually says, “she held on to you for quite awhile.”_

_“She seemed worried about you.”_

_“It’s late, you might miss your flight.” she sighs, changing the subject._

_“I’ll get on a bullet train first thing in the morning.”_

_“Why?” she finally asks, “Why are you still here?”_

_“I wanted to make sure you got home okay.”_

_“You’re not from here, Aizawa,” she chuckles a bit._

_“But you are,”_

_“Go home, Aizawa.” She says as she walks away from him._

_He just stares at her, you could tell he was a bit frustrated, “Stop running away,”_

_“What?”_

_“It’s been a tough day for you. You’re going to feel broken for a bit, numb even, I’m sure. I’m sure that your father never intended to cause you pain. But Shiraishi, you have to let it out. The pain will consume you if you don’t. I understand that you have to be strong for your Mother. I understand that we’d rather let ourselves do the suffering, but at what price? Shiraishi, stop running away from it. Face it head on,” he exhales, “You don’t need to run anymore.”_

_Shiraishi finally closes her eyes and the tears just ran down effortlessly, rushing over to her cheeks. When she opens her eyes, his eyes met up with hers._

_“I’m sorry,” she says, “you have to see me like this, how embarrassing.”_

_As she tried to reach for her face, to wipe the tears off her, Aizawa held her hand gently. He shook his head and looked at her with so much warmth that Shiraishi felt like she was melting — tears free-falling into her cheeks._

_“It’s alright,” he says, gently wiping off the dampness from her face, “you’re alright, I’m here.”_

_She didn’t move away from him, only closing her eyes, feeling his touch._

_“W-would you like to stay for dinner?” she stutters, as she recovers from her hiccups and sniffles._

_“Only if you want me to.” he smiles at her, giving a little chuckle which she couldn’t help returning._

_“Aizawa,”_

_“Hm?”_

_“Thank you, thank you for coming.”_

Inspiration comes in many different forms. One setting the bar as high as the heavens, if that was even possible. When that inspiration ceases to exist, we can’t help but feel lost — because everyone needs something, someone to be inspired by. For awhile, it will feel like we just simply exist, with nothing to live for. However, It’s alright to just merely exist and be unsure. Not everything has to be definitive on the get go. Things take time. Everything will be fine.

She wasn’t alone at her solace, any longer.

She didn’t even need to look sometimes, she just felt he was going to see him here, by the helipad, in all his entirety, black scrubs and all— a feeling, really. It was more of _they_ were alone together — and she didn’t mind that at all.

“Don’t you have a view at the Neurosurgery office?”

His stops from his stride and looks at her — his gaze going right through her. 

“Yes. But the view,” he says, “the view is much better here.”

They both pause for awhile — they do not know why, but they just do. That’s how they were, a camaraderie shared with a few words exchanged in passing between them — yet their bond was quite stronger than most.

“I heard you filed your leave of absence,”

“Only for a few days,” she gestures for him to sit down next to her by the railings, “I realised I really needed that time off that Tadokoro-sensei suggested to me a few weeks ago.”

“I see.”

He settles himself to the railing next to hers like he usually did. They sat in silence for awhile, only broken by the sound of an aircraft passing through and they looked up, seeing the contrail it left behind.

“Shiraishi,” he calls her attention.

“Yes?”

“I just,” Aizawa looks into her eyes ever so softly, “I’d love to know how you’re doing.”

He really knows what was going on in her head. Nothing gets past him — but she didn’t mind that at all.

“I—” It became an impulse to say that she was doing alright whenever someone asked about her feelings regardless of how she truly felt, but she thought differently now — like she didn’t feel the need to lie.

“I still feel it you know, the sadness, the grief. You know how much my father meant to me. But I’m letting my father go with no regrets, he doesn’t have to suffer anymore — and frankly, neither do I. I guess that’s what love is for the most part, it doesn’t change even in death. So I shouldn’t be afraid to admit love. I shouldn’t be afraid to feel. I shouldn’t be afraid of my feelings when they do come along.”

She looks at his eyes, like really looked at them. Have they always been this gentle?

“I’ve been better.” she exhales, answering his question.

She wasn’t really sure what it was with Kosaku Aizawa. The sweetness of his soul was such a mystery to her. The only thing she was sure of is that being around him felt like a warm, loving glow — something you like to be around for a long time. Hopefully, he’d still be here until she could figure that out.

“But, I don’t expect to see changes in one day,” she says, “because that’s impossible anyway.”

“But one day,” Aizawa adds, “is a good place to start.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really said 'screw the suspense, i'm giving them what they want', huh?
> 
> Yeah, this is it. This is the final chapter. Wow. Never really thought I could write. Never thought I'd enjoy it. I want to write something else. I kind of want to dive in into a happier tone, fluff perhaps? If you have any suggestions please feel free to leave me some. 
> 
> Alright, so since this is the last, I get to answer some of your questions I've gotten:
> 
> Yes, this is a prequel. You can go to 'In Reverberation' to see what happens after this, in case you read this one first.  
> Also Yes, I thought of making the sequel to 'In Reverberation' as well, but I'm really happy to see them as just a Prequel-mix. I don't wanna stretch this one out as my only body of work, do you get what I mean?
> 
> Right now that that's settled,
> 
> To users choi_kimmy and hayairei, I really do hope that this body of work manifests my gratitude to you. Thank you very much, really.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who took the time to read it, it gave me the strength I needed in this time. I am truly, truly grateful.


End file.
